


The Ultimate Enemy: Ikea Furniture

by WelcometoGeekdomThyla



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Fluff, M/M, cute little minific, spirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-09-25
Packaged: 2017-12-27 15:10:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WelcometoGeekdomThyla/pseuds/WelcometoGeekdomThyla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim enters his quarters to find Spock struggling to assemble his new desk. Just a cute little fic with some implied smut at the end. Nothing graphic at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ultimate Enemy: Ikea Furniture

“Sulu, you have the conn,” Kirk said as he rose from the Captain’s chair. “I’m going to head to Sickbay.”  
“Are you alright, Captain?” Lieutenant Uhura asked, a concerned frown appearing on her features.  
“Yes, yes, I’m fine, Lieutenant. An ensign in engineering injured himself the other day and I want to check in on him. Take care of my ship, Sulu.”  
“Aye sir.”  
Kirk entered the turbolift and instructed it to take him to Sickbay.  
Exiting the lift he was immediately intercepted by Doctor McCoy.  
“Jim, shouldn’t you be running a starship somewhere? What did you do to yourself now?”  
“I just wanted to check on O’Connor, Bones. How is he?” McCoy grumped around the room, leading Kirk to a secluded area of Sickbay. The engineering ensign was lying on one of the biobeds and reading a magazine.  
“The kid only broke his leg, Jim. He’ll be fine in a month or so. O’Connor, tell the Captain you’re fine so he can stop cluttering up my Sickbay.” The young man before them blinked in confusion, then, realizing who was standing there, made a motion to stand up. Sensors started beeping and Kirk and McCoy rushed to put the boy back in his original position.  
“See Jim? This is why I told you to stay outta here. You cause too much trouble with my patients.”  
“Sorry Bones. I’ll head back to the bridge, then. Can I ask you something though?” Kirk clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder and winked at the laid up ensign.  
Bones squinted in suspicion but said, “Of course.”  
“I’m adding furniture to my quarters. What color would look better, Starfleet grey or Starfleet grey?”  
“Dammit Jim, I’m a doctor, not an interior decorator. Get your wiseass outta here before I starting jabbing you with hypos.” Kirk laughed and waved over his shoulder as he left Sickbay, leaving the injured ensign grinning and bones muttering under his breath.  
He decided to drop by his quarters first before returning to the bridge. He’d left his glasses in his room when he left for beta shift, and the way his eyes strained without them was giving him a headache. He should have had Bones give him something.  
Jim was surprised when he opened the door to his quarters to reveal someone else occupying the room.  
Spock was handling pieces of the desk that Jim had ordered before they left the last Starbase. The box it had been stored in had been ripped open, bubblewrap and parts strewn across the floor.  
“Spock, I thought I gave you the shift off.” The Vulcan didn’t even look up.  
“And so you did, Captain.”  
“You are supposed to be relaxing somewhere.”  
“I believe that crew members have the right to choose what activities they pursue in their leisure.”  
“And you chose to break into my quarters and assemble my new desk.” Jim crossed his arms, his eyes amused.w  
“Obviously,” Spock responded. He slid a rod into a hole in another piece and frowned.  
“Uh, Spock?”  
“Yes Captain?”  
“How long have you been at this?” At a raised eyebrow he rolled his eyes and rephrased. “How long have you been attempting to build that desk?” At this Spock finally raised his head.  
“It has been approximately… two hours since I began.” Jim smiled, coming closer.  
“That’s it? No minutes, no seconds?” He observed the Vulcan further. “Are you okay, Spock?”  
“Of course, Captain. What would persuade you otherwise?”  
“Your cheeks are flushed green.”  
“Indeed?... Fascinating.” The Vulcan sat back on his heels. “Captain, perhaps you will be able to assist me.” Jim cocked his head.  
“Me, the emotional human, help the infallible Vulcan?”  
“Jim,” Spock admonished. Jim held up a hand.  
“I’m just joking, Spock. How can I help?” Spock help up a pamphlet in his hand.  
“These are the instructions to constructing the desk. They are written by and meant for humans, and I believe that my Vulcan heritage is prohibiting me from correctly comprehending it.”  
“So what you’re saying is that you don’t understand the instructions.” Jim laughed.  
“I believe I said that.”  
“Of course you did. Alright, let’s keep at it.”  
“Yes Captain.”

Three hours later and they had almost half of the desk built. Sulu had comm’d his Captain to ask where he was, and Jim replied that he wouldn’t be returning for the rest of beta shift due to the fact that he was helping Spock with ‘a problem’, and he left it at that. It wouldn’t do to have the crew thinking that he and Spock were incapable of building a desk.  
After the first hour the instructions were thrown across the room with a comment of “These instructions do not seem logical even by human standards,” and Jim’s more colorful, “Fuck these instructions. We don’t even HAVE a part 4E!”  
At hour two Jim had successfully determined that Spock was getting flushed because he was frustrated, hence his time approximation issues.  
When they hit hour three, Spock, the self-described Vulcan in control of his emotions, admitted that he was pissed off. Not with that particular phrasing, of course.  
“Captain, I cannot fathom spending any more time on this useless endeavor. Perhaps we should hand over over the assembling duties to Lieutenant Scott. Undoubtedly his expertise in engineering would give him an advantage that we seem to be lacking.” Spock rose from his position on the floor and assumed parade rest. Jim remained on his knees, pieces of the offending desk still in his hands.  
“Spock, you want to give up NOW? We’ve put all this time into it! Come on, we’re… almost making progress…” Spock raised an eyebrow at the Captain, glancing down into shining hazel eyes and then pointedly looking at the haphazard arrangement of parts that looked like it would collapse at any moment. Jim followed his gaze and sighed. “Who am I kidding. Apparently there are things that even we can’t do.”  
“I never thought it possible.” Spock deadpanned, causing Jim to chuckle.  
“And people say you have no sense of humor. Well, Spock, I can’t say this was a complete failure.”  
“You cannot?” Spock tilted his head to one side.  
“Nope. Do you know why?”  
“I confess I do not.” Jim stood up and took a step closer to the Vulcan. Spock’s eyes widened fractionally, so minute that only Jim would have noticed it, even if they were not alone and eye to eye.  
“This time wasn’t wasted because I got to spend it with you.” He walked past Spock and put a hand briefly on his shoulder. A spark passed between them at the touch, and Spock could sense an overwhelming wave of affection from Jim. The moment broke when Jim added cheerfully, with that telltale grin, “Let’s head to the mess hall for dinner.” He motioned to open the door to his quarters. Spock, who had been frozen in place, whirled around and caught Jim’s hand, his eyes now darkened, his pupils dilated.  
“Or we could eat here, using the replicator,” he said slowly, proud of how calm he sounded. Then Jim’s grin grew impossibly wider, his eyes somehow even brighter.  
“I like the way you think, Mr. Spock.”  
“You often do.” Jim threw his head back and let out a deep, throaty laugh.  
And with that, Spock pounced.

It was a while before they got around to eating dinner.


End file.
